Aiden King Quotes

Xander Knight. Cole Nash. Ronan Astor. Aiden King.

Aiden...Oh, my God, Aiden!!" " I Love The Idea Of Being Your God.

He pauses at my first button and searches my face. Touching him was never a part of the deal, and he must be wondering why I’m doing it willingly. I don’t know if he hates or loves it, but I don’t give him or myself time to think about it. I lift my knee and hit him in the crotch. Hard. As hard as I can. His face contorts and his hands shoot out for me, but I duck and run past him. A huge grin pulls on my face. I just kneed Aiden fucking King in the balls!

Yes, Coach,” Aiden calls back but he never takes his eyes off me. The pull between us is crazy and addictive. Despite the audience surrounding us, I’m lost in his smoky eyes. It’s like he’s able to erase the world just like I can.

Running in the rain steals my breath. Ruins it. Smashes it. Nearly eradicates it. When I arrive home, my soaked clothes are stuck to my skin. My shoes are slouching. My toes are cold and stiff. Erratic strands of my hair stick to my temples and forehead, dripping all over me. I stand in our small garden, catching my breath, and press a shaky palm to my chest. My heart’s palpitations grow uneven and out of beat as if protesting. I close my eyes and tip my head back, letting the rain beat down on me. Soak me. Rinse me. The droplets pound on my closed lids almost like a soothing caress. I’ve always loved the rain. The rain camouflaged everything. No one saw the tears. No one noticed the shame or the humiliation. It was just me, the clouds, and the pouring water. But that’s the thing about the rain, isn’t it? It’s only a camouflage, a temporary solution. It can only rinse the outside. It can’t seep under my skin and wash away my shaky insides. Wiping away my memories isn’t an option either. It’s been barely an hour since Aiden had his hands on me – all over me. I can still feel it. His breath. His nearness. His psychotic eyes.

Aiden is the cliff. Unknown. Unplanned. Unpredictable. He's my worst nightmare. He's also the closest thing I've had to freedom.

I’m so fucking screwed over Aiden King.

My monster is all tall, powerful, and beautiful. My monster is Aiden King.

A part inside me dies; the part that yearned for freedom, for the chance to escape Aiden. But the other part? That one fills me with an odd sense of relief. A chill of terror crawls down my spine. This isn’t me.

He’s the type of king who’ll start wars for his queen. As scary as Aiden is, I love the way he looks at Elsa, the way his brows soften under his hard face, the way he tells her without words that he’s hers as much as she’s his. I’ve been watching them since they began, and I fell in love with them together worse than a fangirl falling for fictional heroes in romance novels. The fangirl is me, by the way. I have more book boyfriends

That’s the last thought I have before Aiden slams his fist in Xander’s face.

People’s eyes shine with excitement and happiness. Aiden’s spark with unhinged sadism.

Salem’s Lot by Stephen King must have been his current read since it was perched on his nightstand with one of the corners dogeared. Of course, he’d forgo an actual bookmark, the barbarian.

Aiden was the whole world stretched out beneath him. Aiden’s hair spread out on the sheets, Aiden moaning in his ear. The magnitude of his certainty tipped Harvard over the edge into terrifying and unwelcome knowledge. Terrible realization dawned, remorseless illumination shed on a whole landscape. Harvard found himself looking at his entire life in a new light. Aiden on their first day of school, on their first day of fencing class, on their last day in the hospital, on their first day at Kings Row. Inextricably part of every important moment in Harvard’s life. The bright and shining center of Harvard’s life, ever since he’d turned around and seen Aiden and thought, That boy looks sad, and wanted nothing but to give Aiden everything. Finding Aiden and being too young to understand what he’d found. Only knowing Aiden was necessary to him and wanting Aiden there always. Of course he loved his best friend, of course he did. That was always such an absolute truth that Harvard could never question it. Harvard gasped against Aiden’s mouth. He should have questioned it before now. He should have asked himself what he was feeling. Only he’d been afraid. Dating someone else hadn’t been Harvard’s idea, and with this new clarity he realized he didn’t actually want to do it. He hadn’t wanted to be alone, hadn’t wanted to be left behind, but it was impossible and distinctly horrible to think of being like this with anyone but Aiden. Only very recently, as Aiden dated more and more people and the potential for distance between them started to feel far more real, had Harvard started to feel lonely. If it hadn’t been for Coach suggesting dating, it might never have occurred to him. Why would he go out and look for a partner when he had one at home? Why would he go searching for a lightning strike when there was all the brightness and all the pain he could wish for, always with him? He’d never cared about dating, never really felt the need to find someone, because he’d been otherwise emotionally committed all along. Apparently, Harvard’s subconscious was insane, bent on his own ruin. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’d just decided he was Aiden’s boyfriend, without consulting Aiden. Without even consulting himself. He’d been in love with Aiden the whole time.

Aiden.” His attention falls on his son. “When I told you to stay away from Elsa, what did you do?” “That’s different —” “Answer my question,” he cuts him off. “What. Did. You. Do?” “I married her.” Levi laughs under his breath but stops when Jonathan’s deadly attention shifts to him. “And you. Did you hear a word I said about staying away from Lord Clifford’s daughter?” “Nope.” Levi takes Astrid’s hand in his and kisses her knuckles. “I made her my world.” “Fascinating.” The tone Jonathan speaks with suggests he finds this anything but ‘fascinating’. “Now, you two expect me to listen to you. Do you know what I call that? Hypocrisy.

No one — Aiden included — will break me. My early childhood didn’t and he certainly fucking wouldn’t. I just have to be smart about dealing with him. Like avoiding the shit out of him and go back to glaring from afar. I wave at my aunt and stride into the school with my head held high like usual. The taunts begin, but I don’t let them rattle me. A little voice in my head whispers at them. Run along, kids, your little pranks are nothing compared to Aiden’s depravity. Despite my pep talk this morning that gave me much needed courage, a tremor shoots down my limbs the closer I approach the class. I’ll see him again. I’ll see those demon eyes. Those sadistic smirks. That dark soul.

Ikicked Aiden in the balls. I kicked Aiden fucking King in the balls. My feet skid to a halt at the threshold of the classroom. I’m panting. My hands are sweaty. The wave of adrenaline vanishes from my system, leaving a tremor in my limbs. My shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. If I didn’t worry that my classmates would start calling me a lunatic, I would’ve laughed so loud right now. I want to run, jump, and bump fists with myself. It’s a strange type of freedom that I haven’t felt in like… ever. I was always quiet and introverted, but right now? I feel like I can punch the moon and kick the stars.

They’re also Asher’s acquaintances through Aiden King, a mutual friend from England from when my childhood friend studied in Oxford.

He’s the type of king who’ll start wars for his queen. As scary as Aiden is, I love the way he looks at Elsa, the way his brows soften under his hard face, the way he tells her without words that he’s hers as much as she’s his. I’ve been watching them since they began, and I fell in love with them together worse than a fangirl falling for fictional heroes in romance novels. The fangirl is me, by the way. I have more book boyfriends than I can count. Don’t judge.

If you think i'm the devil, you should search for a higher position for Aiden.

Don’t even remind me of that, Captain. I get nightmares about the day my babies will introduce me to some fuckers. Aiden Pretty sure you know at least one of them, if not two. Cole What are you insinuating? Aiden You might want to sit down for this. Cole Sit down for what? Aiden One day, my Eli will marry your Ava and we’ll be in-laws. Xander Jesus. Is that a script for a horror film? Aiden A reality show. Cole I’ll kill him first, Aiden. You know that. Aiden Good luck trying to stop my son. We King men always get what we want.

Alessandra, her face streaked with tears. Alessandra, on a date with that fucker Aiden and his stupid fucking beard. Alessandra, laughing and talking with him like she was already moving on when I’d been slowly dying inside for the past six weeks, five days, and four hours.

Aiden walks into the classroom with Silver hanging off his arm.

Aiden es el tipo que esconde su ira bajo capas de calma

Aiden no esta interesado en meras partes de mi, lo quiere todo.

The first time I kiss Aiden without him basically forcing it on me.

Aiden: Královna, nebo pěšák. Elsa: Buď se stanu nejdůležitější figurkou, nebo tou nejzbytečnější. Jak...poetické.

That's what Aiden does. He devours. He shreds me apart and strips me bare until he owns every part of me.

There was a book called The Twenty-Six Commandments of Irish Dueling. That sounded cool. Nicholas reached for it, but Seiji’s books were packed together so tightly he actually had to force the book out. The bookcase rocked, and a watch in a little case tumbled from the top shelf and hit the floor. A different book fell down and struck Nicholas’s foot. Nicholas, hopping in wild dismay, stepped on the watch. The plastic case cracked. When Nicholas hastily removed his foot, he saw that the watch inside the case had cracked, too. The whole disaster took about five seconds. Seiji sounded calmly pleased to be proven right. “I knew you would do something like this.” “Um,” said Nicholas. “Oops. Sorry. I’ll pay for that! Or I’ll get it fixed or something!” Seiji sighed dismissively, opening his book back up. “All right.” That made Nicholas feel much worse. There were plenty of guys at Kings Row who would’ve got very nasty about Nicholas daring to touch, let alone break, their stuff. Seiji wasn’t like that. Seiji’s words might cut, but he didn’t say them to cut. Seiji wasn’t Aiden, whom Nicholas never paid attention to. When Aiden spoke, all Nicholas heard was: Blah, blah, blah, I’m a snotty rich kid who talks too much. Nicholas had never seen Seiji get any pleasure out of being cruel. That was what made Seiji’s words cut deep. Nicholas knew Seiji meant what he said.

Tell me—or anyone else—something thatis personal to you, Coach had said. Seiji couldn’t talk to just anyone, but Nicholas had said they were friends. “I was… Jesse’s mirror,” said Seiji slowly. “I reflected his—glow, his glories and his victories. I used to think it was an honor. We were similar, I told myself, in all the ways that really mattered.” Jesse was left-handed like Nicholas, so facing him sometimes felt like looking into a mirror. Like seeing yourself through the glass, a better, golden self in a different world. A self who fenced just as well but didn’t have to work as hard for it. A Seiji who did everything in life with the same skill as he fenced. “You’re not a mirror,” said Nicholas. “You’re real.” “It’s a metaphor, Nicholas.” Nicholas shrugged. “You’re still not a mirror. Mirrors break. You never do.” Seiji thought of his moment of defeat against Jesse. The moment that Aiden had seen, and taunted Seiji with, making Seiji lose again. Seiji had trained his whole life to be strong, but somehow, he was still weak. Jesse had taken his sword, and Seiji hadn’t been able to stop him. The bitterness of that defeat sent Seiji to Kings Row. Always keep moving toward your target, his dad’s voice said, but somehow Seiji had ended up getting his target wrong. He’d moved toward loss and pain he still didn’t entirely understand. “I lost,” confessed Seiji. “Badly.” “Doesn’t make you a loser,” said Nicholas, having another lapse where he didn’t understand what words—let alone metaphors—meant. “You didn’t burst into tears and give up fencing. And you didn’t follow Jesse to Exton like a little lamb, the way he was expecting. You came to Kings Row, and you came to fence. You came to fight.” This view of the matter was so shocking that Seiji said something he’d thought he would never say to Nicholas Cox. “I suppose…,” said Seiji, “… you’re right.” Nicholas’s gaze remained fixed on the floor. “Being rivals shouldn’t be about being someone’s mirror. Both of you get to be real. Neither of you has to break.” “Sometimes you’re insightful, Nicholas,” said Seiji. Nicholas looked pleased before Seiji added: “I think it’s mainly by accident.” At that point, Nicholas rolled his eyes and stepped into his side of the room, yanking the curtain closed between them.

The Bon was carrying a fruit basket with a card that read Get Well Soon, Aiden! on it in glitter. Nicholas hadn’t known Aiden was under the weather. He hoped he felt better soon. Aiden wasn’t Nicholas’s favorite person or anything, but he was one of Nicholas’s teammates. That was more important than anything else.

My friend appears and I choke on the orange juice. Aiden fucking King is standing in our dining room.

Still clutching Xander, Aiden grabs Ronan by the back of his nape. “My chips!” Ronan hugs a bowl to his chest as Aiden drags them both away.

Best Dad of the Year Award goes to Aiden King.

Levi chuckles. “Whoa. Has the great Jonathan King finally met his match?” “Looks like it.” Aiden gives me an undecipherable glance.